


Thief

by DaggerStar



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: A sort of intro I wrote for my tiefling rogue, Gen, General Shenanigans, Minor fighting, Suggestive Themes, Thieving, she's terrible and neutral evil, very brief mention of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 03:32:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15940919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaggerStar/pseuds/DaggerStar
Summary: Aryn Redrii is a tiefling rogue with a penchant for taking what she wants and getting into trouble.





	Thief

   The market was bustling with people of all kinds. Little dwarven children played tag through the crowd, elves showed their forest wares to curious collectors, humans hammered away at armour and weapons. Large cities always made Aryn feel safe. People in these cities were used to a melting pot what with the many travellers in a constant state of coming and going. No one ever really stared at Aryn’s horns and tail with the kind of disdain and judgement that more sheltered people of smaller villages did. She walked around the market square, grinning at all the kiosks. Aryn walked towards an older cat folk who was selling gorgeous pieces of jewellery.

 

“Well met, traveller!” he spoke with a light tone, “Pray tell, what is your favourite gemstone?”

 

   Aryn feigned thought with a clawed finger on her chin before looking back down at the short cat.

 

“I've always been fond of emberstone.”

 

“Ahh, good choice! Such a fine gem for those with a fiery soul.”

 

   He held up a paw, then reached behind his kiosk. When he appeared once more, he slid a red satin bag on the table in front of him. With a flick of his paw, the bag opened to reveal a magnificent gold and emberstone diadem. The band seemed to be solid gold, with crystal drops gathering in the middle. A large emberstone sat in the forefront, as well as another dangling down. Aryn’s black eyes lit up.

 

“I found this during my travels across the Melois Desert. The ancient tribes were known to favour emberstone in their arts. Such a beauty as this could be yours for a simple eight thousand gold!”

 

“Oh damn. I've only five thousand on hand. Perhaps another time then.” Aryn held a faux pout.

 

   The cat seemed disappointed, but lost the fallen expression as a slightly wealthier looking person began browsing his wares. Aryn walked calmly onwards, but her tail lingered. It slithered behind the kiosk and she felt around under the desk until she found it. Pulling gently on the bag, Aryn kept up her poker face. Suddenly, as she held the bag in her tail, a gruff yell sounded.

 

“THIEF!”

 

   The old feline shouted at her and tried to grab at her tail. Aryn snatched the bag off her prehensile appendage and began running through the crowd. When she looked around, she spied armed guards beginning to chase her. With a slight pause, she peered frantically for a way out.  _ An alley _ ! Aryn sprinted toward the dark alleyway with a sharp grin. Once the walls enclosed onto her, she lept onto a stack of hay, and jumped to a wooden clothes hanger. She looked down and was greeted with the guard readying their crossbows, so she swung upwards onto a balcony.

 

   Upon rushing inside the building, she saw lavish tapestries decorated with a purplish smoke. She glanced through the curtain that was blocking her way to the rest of the building and realised she was in a bawdy house. Aryn grabbed some rings and necklaces from the nightstands in the room, stuffing them into her belt. Then, she snuck out of the room. No one seemed to notice her lithe form, everyone too busy with the business of pleasure. As she walked by another curtained room, she heard moans coming from inside. She peeked in and saw an orc woman, human man, and elven man grinding on the bed together. Aryn pried her eyes away hesitantly and made her way to the back door of the establishment, where she slipped out unnoticed.

 

   Just as she began revelling in her successful theft, two guards came swiftly striding into view. They turned and stared at her, then ran at her. Aryn made to run the other direction, but nearly smashed into a brick wall. There was nowhere to get a hold and start climbing, so she turned around with a nervous smile and looked the guards over. The two men weren't necessarily bulky, but definitely ate three meals a day. Their armour was a simple studded leather and they both held spears and shields.

 

“Now gentlemen-”

 

“Halt! In the name of the king’s law!”

 

“I'm sure you two are… sensible individuals. Surely we can come to a sort of agreement?”

 

“You are under arrest for theft!”

 

   Aryn’s smile faltered slightly, but she kept her voice steady.

 

“Need you not a bit of spare change? Or perhaps you both have a spare bed?”

 

   One of the guards seemed to contemplate her offer, but the other advanced towards her.

 

“And I thought today would be easy.”

 

   Aryn unsheathed two sharply curved daggers from cases strapped to her legs and readied herself. The first guard charged at her and she quickly dodged, bringing the hilt of the dagger down on his patchy helmet. It made a loud thunk, but the guard still reared around to strike. Aryn sliced at the straps of his helmet and the thing fell off unceremoniously. The second guard raised his spear and chucked it through the air, it's long frame soaring behind Aryn. She felt a sting across her back and let out a gasp, but didn't lose her pose. The first guard, now without his helmet, brought his shield in an uppercut towards Aryn’s chin. She parried it hurriedly and stepped out of the way, using the guard’s momentum to trip him. He fell to the ground face first in surprise, skin scraping on the stone.

 

   Aryn brought both her daggers down at this guard, but cursed in pain as a shield bashed into her hands. The other guard punched Aryn in the gut, knocking the wind out of her. As she gasped for breath, the one who she knocked down stood back up and hit her in the back of the legs with the dull end of his spear. The man who still had his helmet met her face with his shield and Aryn felt a crunch. Black blood poured out of her nose as she lay on the ground. The two guards walked towards her, brushing themselves off. As soon as they made to continue this beating, the air went still.

 

   The ground began to shake, causing the guards to lose their footing and fall. The various lanterns in the alley fell to the ground, causing the newly oil-covered stone to hold flame. Fire surrounded Aryn as the ground continued to shake and she got up. Her eyes opened. Though they were once black as the night, her eyes were now stark white. She pointed at the guards on the ground.

 

“Leave!” her voice boomed, “And never return!”

 

   The guards looked at each other, then shot up and ran. As soon as they left the alley, the shaking stopped. Aryn’s eyes fell back to their normal colour, and the fire that once licked her frame subsided calmly. The young tiefling felt at her back gently and came back with blackened fingers. She spat out some blood and laughed weakly.

 

“Morons.”

 

   Aryn retrieved her daggers, and slowly walked out of the dead end, slipping into the shadows of a different alley. Through back passages, she made it out of the city. The hustle and bustle had begun to die down a bit with the setting of the sun. The darkened stone path ahead looked bright as ever, and Aryn saw a drunkard passed out by the side of the road. She stole his ale mug and took a hefty swig, tossing the now empty pewter to the side. After another ten minutes of pained walking, she saw the stable she had passed by on her way into town. While the groom was feeding another horse, Aryn snipped the rope holding a dark steed with her tail and slowly hoisted herself on to the saddle already tied to the horse. She whipped the reigns and yelled for the horse to go forward. As Aryn rode off, she heard behind her an angry voice.

 

“Thief!”

 

   Despite her injuries, a toothy grin spread across Aryn’s face.

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you fail a sleight of hand check, sometimes you just barely fail a charisma check. Crit happens.


End file.
